


Happen

by behappy



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Youtube RPF
Genre: Accident, Angst, Cuddles happen when he does tho, First Kiss, First Times, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Jack's just really worried, M/M, Mark isn't waking up, Sadness, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6749422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behappy/pseuds/behappy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark, Ryan, and Matt get into a horrific car accident and Jack flies there in an instant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. cold to the touch

**Author's Note:**

> this is a cute little fic that i wanted to write. enjoy!

       It's hard to breathe when three of your friends got into a rough car accident and only one was conscious enough to text only two words: 'help us'. It's even harder to function when you spend a day and a half chasing the clouds in airplanes, wondering if you're gonna make it to the hospital in time to see your friends.  
  
        "I need to see Mark Fischbach, Matt Watson, and Ryan Magee."  
  
        "I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours are over."  
  
        The Irishman sighs, wiping his hands over his face. " _Please_. I just flew from Ireland. These boys are my best friends."  
  
        The nurse looks at the man with a piercing gaze before sighing. "They're in the last room to the right."  
  
        "Thank you so much." He makes a move to begin walking, but the nurse stops him.  
  
        "Wait, sir, I need you to sign in first." She slides a clipboard over the counter.  
  
        He signs his name in print, spelling out the letter with the black ink pen.  _Sean McLoughlin_.  
  
        "Okay, Mr. McLoughlin." She nods politely, letting him go.  
  
        Jack physically sways with grief upon seeing the three men in their wrecked state. Mark has a brace around his neck, his left cheek covered by a bandage. Even in his sleep he looks restless. Matt has a cast on the whole of his right arm and his head is bandaged. His eyes keep wincing as if he's in pain and Jack feels his eyes begin to water. Ryan looks to have gotten the least of the damage, his face and arms just covered in several cuts and bruises.  
  
        "Oh, Markimoo." Jack drops his duffel and takes his bruised hand, caressing it as gently as he can.  
  
        "Jack?"  
  
        Jack's gaze snaps up to meet Ryan's squinted look and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Ryan."  
  
        He hurries over to Ryan's bed. "Ryan, what happened?"  
  
        "I don't know, man." Ryan murmurs, wincing as he tries to sit up. "One second we were on the freeway, the next we were in a Carl's Jr."  
  
        "Ye flew off the freeway?" Jack exclaims, causing Ryan's to flinch. "Sorry, sorry."  
  
        Ryan nods. "Matt thinks it was a drunk driver, but only Mark knows cause he was driving."  
  
        "Has he woken up yet?"  
  
        Ryan shakes his head. "Dr. Freeroy said he'll wake up soon, though."  
  
        "Oh, God."  
  
        "I can give you the key to our house. So you can sleep there."  
  
        Jack frowns. "I'm not leavin' ya."  
  
        Ryan later falls asleep after Jack calls for the nurse to give him some pain relief supplements. Across from the three beds is a couch that Jack discovers to be actually very comfortable. He checks his social media accounts with the slow wi-fi before laying down to get as much sleep as he can.  
  
        "He got here last night. I didn't wanna wake you up, bud."  
  
        Jack rolls over, his eyes slowly opening to see Matt and Ryan sat up and staring at him.  
  
        "Top of the mornin' to ya, ladie."  
  
        Jack almost rolls his eyes at the blond. He swings his legs over the edge of the couch, his sock covered feet meeting the cold floor of the hospital.  
  
        "Dr. Freeroy came it, said you can't sleep here again tonight." Ryan tells him unhappily.  
  
        Jack stretches, still barely awake. "Mm."  
  
        "You're gonna have to stay at our place." Matt says.  
  
        "Mm."  
  
        "You really aren't a morning person, are you?" He asks, adjusting his glasses.  
  
        Jack's gaze shifts to Mark. He frowns, standing up and wincing when his back cracks. Neither of the other men say anything when Jack takes one of Mark's hands in his, watching somberly as the artificial redhead doesn't react to the touch.  
  
       Jack sighs, willing his eyes not to water. "He's cold to the touch."  
  
        "He'll wake up soon." Matt insists. "He has to."  
  
        Jack's brain echoes those words.  _He has to._


	2. Honorable Discharge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack really needs Mark to wake up.

        Jack wasn't ready to walk into Mark's house without him. He wasn't ready to see the wall of photos of Mark and his boys. Mark and Wade, Mark and Bob, Matt and Ryan, Mark and Daniel. _Daniel._  It's only been a year since Daniel's passing and Mark might be joining him.  
  
        "No." Jack mumbles.  
  
        Matt and Ryan asked if Jack could feed the animals while he's staying and of course Jack obliged.  
  
        "Chica! Lego! Banana Rambo!" Jack makes a variety of noises to attract all of them.  
  
        Banana is the first to appear, rubbing himself against Jack's calf. "Hello, Banana."  
  
        The cat mewls.  
  
        Jack pours a scoop of kitty food into his bowl before heading towards the backyard. He finds Lego and Chica back there, barking at the Irishman.  
  
        "Oh, c'mon. It's me! Jackaboy." Knowing neither of the dogs would bite, Jack opens the sliding door.  
  
        They continue to bark until Jack gives them two full bowls of food.  
  
        "Oh, now ye stop barkin'." Jack rolls his eyes.  
  
        He picks up his duffel from the kitchen, lugging it into the guest room.  
  
        The walls are blank and the sheets white. The only color in the room other than white is the smooth grey pillows and brown desk pressed against the wall.  
  
        "Top of the mornin', ladies!" Jack greets with exhaustion underlying his voice. "I'm in LA visiting Mark, Matt, and Ryan!"  
  
        "I don't really know what I'm doin' here, but I guess wingin' it is good." Jack sighs, the small exhale turning into a yawn. "I'm really tired, but I thought I should let ye know I'm here."  
  
        Jack doesn't end up posting the video in fear of the car accident getting out on the internet. Instead, he posts the stockpile of videos he has lined up.  
  
        And that morning, he packs Ryan and Matt's things before he leaves for the hospital. The two are due to be discharged in the afternoon.  
  
        "I come bearin' gifts." Jack hands Matt's backpack at the foot of his bed then drops Ryan's trash bag of stuff at the foot of his as well.  
  
        "I love how you put my stuff in a trash bag."  
  
        Jack giggles, the high pitched one that always drives his fans wild. "Couldn't find a backpack, buddy."  
  
        The Irishman pulls a chair next to Mark's bed. It scrapes loudly against the floor and Jack flinches, sitting in it and taking Mark's hand in his.  
  
        "It's time to wake up, ya doof." Jack smiles. It's a somber smile, but he doesn't think Ryan and Matt can tell the difference. "I need ya to wake up."  
  
        He doesn't dare look at the other two, for he might begin to cry at the sight of their saddened faces. Mark is undoubtedly his best friend, and without him, Jack will crumble.  
  
        "He'll come around." Ryan murmurs, resting a hand on Jack's shoulder.  
  
        "Yeah, Dr. Freeroy said he'll wake up anytime now." Matt chimes in, letting his hospital gown fall. He pulls on his jeans, wincing as the rough fabric skim over his cuts.  
  
        Matt and Ryan sign their release forms after dressing themselves in casual clothing. Jack doesn't leave Mark's side throughout the whole process, only humming when he's spoken to.  
  
        He glides a piece of ice over Mark's chapped lips. "There ye go, buddy."  
  
        "Jack, we should go get lunch." Ryan suggests. "You don't look good."  
  
        Jack shakes his head, setting the Styrofoam cup down on the bedside table. "I'll stay with him."  
  
        "Are you sure?" Matt hands the nurse the paperwork. "Chipotle's right down the road."  
  
        "Not leavin' him." Jack mutters, Mark's hand in his own.  
  
        And, at that moment, Jack's happy they didn't say anything. He doesn't see what they say in the looks they give him and Mark, but both discharged men figure it's up to Jack to figure it out on his own.  
  
        "I need ye to wake up, ya stupid idiot. I need ye to come back and take care of Chica. I need ye to come back'ta me." Jack whispers, as if saying the words any louder will jinx his luck. "I wanna kick yer ass at Dark Souls III and make ye make me dinner cause I'd burn yer house down."  
  
        Jack watches Mark's closed eyes flit around, like dreamers normally do.  _Brain activity is good_ , Jack thinks. And when Mark's heart rate machine starts to beep rapidly, Jack loses his shit.  
  
        "Help! Help! My friend needs a doctor!"  
  
        Two nurses come running in, a man in a white coat soon following. "What happened?"  
  
        "The machine started doin' weird shit!" Jack gets out, hysterical. "Is he dyin'? Help him!"  
  
        The three professionals crowd around the redhead. Jack presses himself against the wall, breathing increasing in speed and sharpness.  
  
        "Well, Mister," The doctor calls over his shoulder. "Your friend is waking up."


	3. good vibrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark's awake and Jack's happy.

        "Oh, Mark." Jack is hunched over, sobbing into Mark's side. "I-- Oh, God, I didn't-- I didn't know if ye were gonna wake up or--  _Markimoo_."  
  
        Mark's chest is raising abnormally, the man taking shallow breaths.  
  
        "What the fuck was I gonna do without ye?" Jack wheezes.  
  
        "I'm fine." Mark breathes slowly, unable to speak any louder than a whisper.  
  
        "Barely." Jack murmurs, placing gentle kisses on the back of Mark's hand.  
  
        Mark gives Jack a weak smile. "I'm trying, here."  
  
        Despite everything, Jack giggles. "Doof."  
  
        Mark tries to laugh, but he begins to sputter.  
  
        "Stop, stop." Jack grabs a cup filled with juice, putting it up to Mark's mouth and tipping it back for him to drink. "Okay?"  
  
        "Yeah." Mark croaks, voice gravely. "What is that? Apple?"  
  
        "Apple cranberry."  
  
        "Mm." Mark hums, closing his eyes.  
  
        "Yeah."  
  
        The silence between the two pains Jack, one of the loudest people on the face of the planet, so he doesn't allow it.  
  
        "I flew here as soon as I got the text from Ryan. It was horrible havin' to wait on that plane with the fear of landin' and ye died. I was so scared, but then I got here and saw you.  
  
        "I saw on Tumblr that people can actually die of a broken heart. When I saw ye layin' here, I felt it crack. I dunno, maybe I'm bein' a bit dramatic, but it hurt. Yer me best friend." Jack feels Mark squeeze his hand. "Love ya."  
  
        "Love you, too." Mark sighs. "I know this sounds really bad cause I've been out cold... Sorry, it's hard to talk."  
  
        Jack lets the man take a few moments to breathe.  
  
        "I'm really tired." Mark finishes. "If Ry and Matt come, wake me up?"  
  
        "Ye know I'm not gonna."  
  
        Mark pouts, making Jack giggle.  
  
        "Okay, fine."  
  
        "Thank you, man." Mark closes his eyes, willing himself to sleep with the heart rate monitor lulling him off to rest.  
  
        Jack doesn't end up waking Mark up.  
  
        "How long has he been up?" "Why didn't you call us?"  
  
        Jack sighs, leaning back into the chair he's in. "It's only been forty minutes or so. Gimme a break."  
  
        "I'm just glad he's okay." Ryan gives, setting their Chipotle bag down on the bedside table without a care of knocking the empty Styrofoam cup down.  
  
        "I'm stayin' until he's better."  
  
        Behind Jack's back, the two give each other looks, knowing all too well what this is gonna lead to.  
  
        "Yeah, sounds cool." "Fun times, man."  
  
        Matt and Ryan become frantically concerned when Mark wakes up his nap with a cough attack. Jack feeds him juice, the other two watching on with questions spewing from their mouths.  
  
        "What happened?" "Do you remember anything?"  
  
        "Drunk driver." Mark gets out. "I think."  
  
        Matt hands Mark his phone from his pocket. "I've been answering your calls and stuff, saying you've been working on a big YouTube thing. Your mom really wants to talk to you."  
  
        The phone rests on his stomach, but he doesn't even look at it. "How're you guys?"  
  
        "Good." "I've got the runs like you won't believe."  
  
        "Ryan, ew." Jack scrunches his face.  
  
        Mark cracks a smile. "It's life, Jackaboy."  
  
        Jack realizes then that he's holding Mark's hand in his. He doesn't pull away because his hand is warming Mark's cold one and because his hand seems to fit perfectly into Mark's.  
  
        "Ry and I are gonna head home for a bit. You need anything?" Matt stuffs his hands in his pockets.  
  
        Mark nods. "Just my laptop. Fans are probably wondering what's up."  
  
        "No." Jack breaks in. "Ye need to rest, not to worry. Yer gonna get rest and not tweet and worry like a worrier."  
  
        Matt remains still. "Okay."  
  
        "So... No laptop?"  
  
        Jack looks to Ryan, giving him a if-you-bring-that-laptop-I'll-murder-you look.  
  
        "Right." Ryan nods. "Brought you food, Jack."  
          
        And they leave with a couple of awkward waves.  
  
        "Don'tcha think they're actin' a bit weird?"  
  
        "I think they're fine." Mark shrugs. "But I'm hopped up on drugs, so I don't know."  
  
        Despite their current situation, Jack chuckles. "Idiot."  
  
        "Do you know what I'm on? Cause I'm definitely feeling it."  
  
        "Ye don't sound like yer on anythin'."  
  
        "Mmm. Well, it's something." Mark hums tiredly, eyes drooping.  
  
        Even with Mark looking as if he got hit by a car, which did happen, his eyes are bright with life. Jack watches Mark eyes close, making Jack squeeze it.  
  
        "Hey, don't sleep on me yet." Jack says tenderly. "We gotta talk."  
  
        "Jackaboy." Mark whines. "I'm tired."  
  
        "I know, babe, but we gotta talk. I'm stayin' in LA until yer fully healed. I'm gonna take care of ye, okay?"  
  
        "You called me 'babe'." Mark teases, giggling lowly. "I'm a babe."  
  
        Jack rolls his eyes. "Yes, yer my babe."  
  
        "Babe-iplier."  
  
        "Oh, Mr. Iplier." Jack shakes his head. "So, it's settled. I'm stayin' for ye."  
  
        "Septiplier, awayyy." Mark begins to cough violently.  
  
        "Mark," Jack reaches over for his own bottle of water. "Mark, breathe."  
  
        "I think I'll need you to stay." Mark says, after being fed water.  
  
        "Love ye."  
  
        "Love you, too,  _babe_."  
  
        "Fuck you."


	4. Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The line between friendship and relationship was a bit cloudy, but the boys fix it.

        There's a certain point in every friendship where the possibility of more occurs. For Mark and Jack, that possibility is a probability. A ninety percent probability, to be exact.  
  
        "If yer gonna kiss me, can ye get it over with? I don't do awkward silence." Jack grumbles, their faces inches apart.  
  
        He's on his back, under Mark's nervous gaze. Arms at his sides, Jack rolls his eyes. If you want something done, you gotta do it yourself. Jack connects their lips and Mark collapses on him, feeling the weight of the bigger man crush him.  
  
        "Ouch!" Jack groans, pushing up at Mark. "What the fook, Mark?"  
  
        "My arms gave out." Mark replies meekly.  
  
        Jack rolls to his side, Mark behind him. "Idiot."  
  
        "But you love me." Mark tells, voice then faltering as he says, "Right?"  
  
        "Only a bit."  
  
        "I'll accept that." Mark nuzzles his face into the boy's back.  
  
        The bristles of Mark's forming beard tickle the Irishman's neck, eliciting a giggle from him. "That tickles."  
  
       Mark continues to tickle the man. "Tickle, tickle."  
  
        "Fucker."  
  
        Mark rolls over, checking the time on his phone. "Oh! Oh, no! My appointment!"  
  
        And their rush to the doctor's office half an hour away will later make the two groan, but, right now, all they're doing is running and laughing.  
  
        "I'm here." Mark huffs out, smiling at the secretary of the private practice.  
  
        "You can go in, Mark." Jack sees her try to avoid rolling her eyes and it almost makes him laugh at how ridiculous they really are.  
  
        Jack follows Mark into the back room, sitting in the comfy chair against the wall while Mark hops onto the raised platform.  
  
        "It's been around a week and a half since you were discharged, Mr. Fischbach." Dr. Almay tells. "How're you feeling?"  
          
        Making himself serious, Mark pushes his glasses up his nose. "I've been experiencing a lot of back pain, but I can run again! So that's good."  
  
        "And how are the wounds healing?"  
  
        Mark lifts his shirt over his head, setting it next to him. "I think this one's finally closed, but the one on my arm bleeds every now and then."  
  
        Jack watches on. He notes the way Mark's body is lax and plumper than usual because of the medicine he's on. Mark is animatedly talking to the doctor, but Jack's only paying attention to his mannerisms.  
  
        "Well, Mark, I think in a week, you'll make a full recovery. At least, I hope so, judging by the way your body is healing so quickly."  
  
        Mark hops off the counter, reaching a hand out to shake with his doctor. "Thank you. I'm happy the medicine you prescribed is working so well."  
  
        "It's basically steroids, but not. So, it should have you on perfect footing soon enough."  
  
        "My best friend's on roids." Jack giggles from the passenger's seat of Mark's car.  
  
        Mark rolls his eyes. "They're not roids. Dr. Almay said they're kinda steroids."  
  
        "Um, no." Jack corrects. "He said they're basically roids. So, long story short, they're roids."  
  
        The time is takes for them to return to Mark's house is the same amount of time it takes for Jack to realize he's gonna have to go home soon, leaving his friend behind.  
  
        "Kiss meee."  
  
        "Fook youuu."  
  
        So Mark pushes himself onto Jack, tackling him into the couch. He drops his weight down onto the Irishman's body in an effort to trap him. "Kiiiiiiss meee."  
  
        "Markkk." Jack whines in reply. "This is assault."  
  
        "This is love. I can do what I want, you're my boyfriend."  
  
        Jack cringes, feeling the color drain from his face.  
  
        He doesn't dare speak a word, which causes Mark's grin to falter. "Oh, right."  
  
        And then, "Wanna be my boyfriend?"  
  
        "Ye can't be serious right now." Jack wiggles underneath the man, falling onto the floor. "Fookin' hell."  
  
        Jack rubs his bum. "Yer askin' this  _now_?"  
  
        "Better now than later." Mark holds out a hand. "And I'm not hearing a 'no'."  
  
        Jack stands, dusting himself off. "Ask me again."  
  
        "What?" Mark looks up, brows furrowed.  
  
        "You heard me, Fischbach. Ask me again."  
  
        With his hands on his hips, Jack looks about ready to walk away. His stern expression makes the anxiety in Mark grow, shrinking his confidence.  
  
        "Um, will you... Will you be my boyfriend?" Mark plants his feet on the ground, ending the world-spin in his mind.  
  
        Jack, eyes piercing Mark's, breaks his serious face to grin. "Of course, ye idiot."  
  
        But when Jack hops onto Mark's lap to hug his boyfriend, Mark whimpers out in pain.  
  
        "Jack, watch it, please." Mark breathes, exhaling in hopes of numbing the pain.  
  
        Jack presses his lips against the man's lips, then mumbling. "Sorry, sorry."  
  
        "You're gonna be the death of me."  
  
        "Maybe..."


End file.
